#look my brain is just a hurricane of smooching right now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sashi-ya · 3 years

Text

{+18} – Cherry Blossom & Tangerines – Trafalgar Law x Y/n – Part 3

Modern AU. Living in Seoul, SK. Everybody is alive. No spoilers.

Female reader. No physical descriptions. Everybody is +18, canon ages. Chopper is human.

Tw: Mostly SFW. ZoSan. Fluff. A/N: I haven’t had the chance to visit South Korea due to Covid, so everything included is pure research. Excuse me in advance if there is something that’s not 100% accurate! Keep in mind is purely inspired ♥

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31059467

» List of parts: {P1} {P2} {P3} {P4} {P5} {P6}«

Word Count: 4.9K

Law’s slender, soft, skilled fingers played over the silky material of my pyjama shorts. I wrapped my arms around his neck, softly brushing my fingers through his black hair. Our lips still pressed, our senses getting lost on the burning sexual tension that was finally being released.

The soon to be surgeon, slid a hand inside my satin blouse, and grabbed one of my breasts. Caressing it softly at first, but then searching for my nipple to press it firmly in between two fingers. I moaned his name, almost whispering, after all we were in the kitchen of a house living with ten more people.

Law began to trace a path from my mouth to my neck with sweet wet smooches, mixed with little bites, and I was slowly being taken to heaven, until I heard “Saaaaanjiii, foood!”. I whipped my head to the side and saw Luffy entering the kitchen.

Law and I remained still for a moment, until we realized that this was one of Luffy’s sleepwalks for food. He was technically asleep so he wasn’t aware of us, but the minimum sound could wake him up. So, we gently detached our bodies in silence, until Law had to shout to Luffy to stop. My somnambulist friend was about to hit his face with the fridge door, and Law had to catch him in order to avoid him getting hurt.

I was arranging my clothes quickly when I saw Sanji coming downstairs running and screaming, “Damn Luffy, I heard you shouting my name, what happened?”. The blond cook was covered in sweat and had a little red spot on his neck. I giggled a little looking how annoyed he seemed, but hey, at least Law and I weren’t the only ones who were interrupted.

Luffy finally returned to reality after a few slaps from Sanji and apologized laughing. I couldn’t get mad at him; he is just too sweet. Sanji agreed on cooking something fast for him and began with his work.

“So, guys, what were you doing here?”, asked Luffy pointing at Law and I with his mouth full. I widened my eyes, while thinking for an excuse, but Law spoke first, “I couldn’t sleep, so I came to the kitchen to have some water. Y/n-ya was here having tea, and she offered to prepare some for me, that’s it”. “Uhum, I couldn’t sleep either”, I said.

Luffy looked at us for a moment, but he quickly believed in our words.

Suddenly, we heard from the stairs Zoro’s sleepy voice, “Oi, nosebleed-kun I’m waiting…”. Law, Luffy and I turned our faces to Sanji, who instantly turned red. I bit my lips trying to stop myself from laughing, but when my eyes met Law’s face, we began to laugh out loud. This was the first time I saw Law laughing, my heart skipped a beat on how gorgeous he looked.

Luffy didn’t catch it at first, but after Zoro entered the kitchen with nothing more than his boxers on, the bell rang on his brain, “oh… hahahaha”.

“Marimo…”, said Sanji mumbling, “Go back to sleep…”. The one-eyed man was now standing still in front of us, probably unable to move, and blushed in his entirety. He simply said “We… we were playing with the Nintendo… uhm it was this idiot cook turn, so…. Uhm, whatever, I’m going back to sleep”. He turned around and almost ran upstairs.

We remained silent and the only sound we could hear was the sizzling sound of the eggs Sanji was cooking.

He turned his back at us and focused on the pan, he was clearly embarrassed, maybe a little sad because of us laughing.

Law stood up, told Luffy to go back to sleep and placed his hand over my shoulder, “Thanks for the tea, Y/n. We can continue our conversation tomorrow”. He said and smirked.

Those words made my body react instantly, a strike of pleasure stung my insides, and the idea of continuing what we’ve started that night installed on me, almost as a necessity.

“Sanji, go back to sleep, I’m sleeping with Luffy and the guys tonight, don’t worry”, said Law and left the room. Luffy followed him.

I waited for them to be upstairs and approached Sanji. “Oi, babe, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to laugh. I’m happy for you two, go back to him. Don’t worry, I’m not saying anything, nor Law, or even Luffy. I’m sure Law is now addressing Luffy at this point. If Zoro or you want to tell us, we will let you do it. Ok?”. I said to my favourite chef, placing my head over his shoulder.

Sanji caressed my hair and finally smiled back at me. “Thanks, Y/n-chan…”. He went upstairs and I put the dirty dishes on the dishwasher. Eventually I went back to bed, and the exhaustion won the fight between my insomnia.

The smell of breakfast made my stomach growl as I was waking up. “Mmm Sanji’s french toasts…”, I mumbled while opening my eyes and stretching my arms. “Good morning, Robin-chan”, I told my friend who had already woken up and was reading a book on her bed. “Good morning, sweetie, did you sleep well?”, she asked, and I nodded back.

Some sun rays were filtering through the big window of our room, we could see the beach and some sailboats on the distance. The sky showed no clouds, it was warm, some sakura petals danced with the breeze and fell to the ground. It was the perfect spring day.

We quickly got dressed and I didn’t even care much about my face. After breakfast I was taking a shower so, I didn’t put too much effort on my image. Robin and I went downstairs and met with the other ones in the kitchen.

Luffy was fighting with Usopp and Chopper for the food, as always. Law was drinking coffee and smiled at me when he saw me enter. Zoro was almost falling asleep over his plate, I guess he had a sleepless night after all… fufufu. Franky and Brook were outside having cola and milk, respectively.

Nami and Vivi come downstairs a few minutes after. Vivi hugged me from behind and scared me, and as she did, my hair uncovered my neck. “Oi, Y/n… what is that on your neck?”, she asked. “What? what do I have?” I started touching my neck in order to feel maybe something. “Is that a hickey?” inquired Nami, almost whispering. Luckily, no one else heard due to the guys fighting. “Nami, shut the hell up…” I sentenced my friend, with my index over my mouth.

“Damn Law, he must have bit me so hard yesterday that now I have a mark…” I thought while covering back my neck with my hair. Suddenly I received a message on my phone. @DrHeartStealer > I’m sorry ;). I looked up to Law and he was looking at me with puppy eyes, that by the way, were fake as hell. He was enjoying this… And I… well… I was kind of too.

“I think last night was a little bit turbulent, right Sanji? Law? Zoro?” Nami, who didn’t want to stop, and that obviously knew everything that happened the night before without even being told, mocked the guys.

“Shut up, baka”, Zoro told her, grabbing his forehead with no energy at all and perhaps affected by the lack of sleep and the hangover. Sanji was more blushed than last night, and Law didn’t show a single emotion, he seemed as if he didn’t give a single fuck about it.

Usopp who had now stopped fighting with Luffy, said “Oi… wait a minute, Sanji, what’s that on your neck?”. I realized Zoro was about to throw a plate at the big nose nosy guy, so I told Usopp to stop only using my expressions.

We finished eating breakfast and decided that today was the perfect day to visit Shinhwa Theme Park. I loved roller coasters and theme parks, so I was super excited to visit the place.

We went to our rooms to get ready when suddenly Nami and Vivi entered mine like a hurricane pouncing on me and demanding me to tell them why I had a hickey on my neck. I couldn’t refuse, so I accepted my destiny and told them of my encounter with Law last night.

Even Robin seemed excited, the girls were jumping and giggling. They were really happy for me, not only because Law seemed like a good catch, but also because it’d been so long since I dated someone.

My girlfriends decided to help me get ready for the park, so they brushed my hair, chose my outfit and even my makeup. I knew I didn’t need all of that, but frankly I enjoyed it, so I didn’t complain at all.

When we arrived at the park, the employees gave us little plastic bracelets and we headed to the first attractions.

I ran to the biggest roller coaster and insisted everyone to come with me, but almost all of my friends refused my invitation right away. “Are you kidding me, Y/n? there is no way I’m riding that huge thing, forget it”, said Usopp.

Luckily, Luffy, who loves new experiences and doesn’t know about fear, agreed on coming with me, as well as Franky. We headed to the short queue and waited for our turn. A few minutes after, Law, who was buying some water bottles when I asked the guys to join the ride with me, approached us saying, “Oi, can I join?”. “Of course, Torao!!” said Luffy, jumping with excitement.

When it was finally our turn, Franky sat with Luffy smirking at Law. “May I sit with you, Y/n-ya?", asked the sexy doctor. "Of course, if you are afraid, you can hug me …", I said, with a defiance expression. "Tsk.. we'll see who gets frightened first…".

“Welcome to the Dancing Oscar! Are you ready to experience extreme fun?! But first, let’s watch the safety rules!”, the safety video began to play on the little screens in front of us. Law and I were sitting behind Luffy and Franky, and as the video finished, he turned to me. “Well, let’s keep you safe…”, he said, coming even closer to my face. Law grabbed the safety restraints that were in between my legs first, caressing the inside of my thighs -that the girls insisted on me showing by using a cute short-, then the ones that were over my hips. He ably fastened them together in the buckle and pulled the belts in order to tighten them real hard. Finally, he tightened the ones over my breasts. I gasped, the pressure, the soft touch of his hands over my skin, the feeling of being taken care of, maybe… even being dominated by him… He was teasing me, and my body was reacting to it. “There, now you are safe”, he said patting my left thigh and smirking.

I closed my legs, pressing my core against the tight straps, mumbling something similar to a thank you. I was desperate to feel some type of release, and the pressure over my pleasure point was the fastest way. Even though it wasn’t enough.

He secured himself and soon after the ride started.

When the cart slowly approached the highest point took about a minute to finally be released gaining speed faster that I was expecting. Not only me, but also Law, got so scared that we grabbed each other's arms and started shouting. Something flashed my eyes, but I was so scared that I didn’t even think of what it was.

After experiencing the adrenaline of the loops and the ups and downs of the track, it finally came to an end. When the cart finally stopped on the starting point, my heart was pumping harder than ever, my blood pressure was a mess, and my head was spinning. I began to laugh really hard, grabbing my stomach. “Oh, dear Lord, it was amazing!!!” I screamed, Luffy and Franky followed me, while Law looked at me regretting the moment he decided on hopping on. He was pale and seemed as if he were about to throw up.

“Law, are you ok?” I said chuckling. “I am…”. He answered and began to untie the belts.

When we were getting off the ride our friends came to us laughing. “Oi, Y/n, Torao, what is it with your faces? “said Usopp, showing us a photo with the theme park frame of Law and I looking at each other in fear, almost hugging, seconds after the cart began the falling action. “Oh… so that was the flash I saw”, I said while my cheeks turned to fire. Law snickered, grabbing the photo, and said “I’m keeping this one, your face is just too funny”. I looked at him frowning, but I couldn’t deny he was right, after all. Plus, him wanting to keep a photo of us made me feel all bubbly inside.

The day went by with us having fun, riding attractions, buying souvenirs, taking photos. Our cheeks were really sunkissed, as well as our shoulders. The night came, and we were ready to enjoy the firework show the park offered every night.

Everybody gathered in the centre of the park and the brilliant lights drew pretty images over the sky, the soft sea breeze refreshed my cheeks. My friends were smiling, having fun. I could see Zoro and Sanji looking at each other with a love expression on their eyes, Vivi and Nami holding hands, Robin placing her head over Franky’s shoulder. Love was in the air, and it felt wonderful.

I kept enjoying the light show, when suddenly Law approached me from in between the crowd and subtly grabbed my pinkie finger with his. Softly, without taking our sight from the fireworks, I grabbed his whole hand. And we remained like this, holding hands, with a smile on our faces. My heart beating quickly, and soon the feeling of butterflies in my stomach followed. “Is this… more than sexual attraction?” I thought, but quickly decided to stop thinking and simply indulge on the moment.

The show ended and we let go of our hands. Our friends and we walked to the parking lot and headed back home.

We were so exhausted that we went right to our bedrooms and threw our bodies into our beds. Soon I had the idea of texting Law, and so I did. I grabbed my phone and sent him, “@SunflowerDr > have a good night, sleep well. Remember we got a “conversation” pending…xoxo.” A few minutes after he answered, “@DrHeartStealer > have a good night, doll. I got an idea for tomorrow, we could continue our conversation there…, sleep well”.

“Did he just call me “doll”?” I bit my lower lip wondering about his idea and my body burned in anticipation for the next day.

I passed out soon after until next morning.

The day seemed a little cloudier than the day before, and Nami, who was about to get her degree in meteorologic science, told us that probably a storm was coming to the island at night. So, we thought about a good plan for the day, and Robin suggested visiting “Manjanggul Lava Cave”. Jeju is a volcanic island and the lava flow from the volcanoes had created caves or “lava tubes” on certain places of the island that now are solidified. Who else could suggest visiting a cave more than our archaeologist friend?. We agreed on visiting the place and after breakfast, we quickly drove there.

We all submerged on the underground cold dark caverns. A little train inside the cave took us to the deepest point. Blue, purple, pink lights illuminated the stone pillars and stalactites that were widely spread through the tunnels.

“God, I’m kinda cold, aren’t you?” I said to Chopper who was walking next to me. “Yeah, that’s why I told you to bring a jacket, dummy”, he said to me and was about to give me his jacket when Law appeared from behind saying “Don’t worry Tony-ya, I’m a little hot. Here, take my jacket Y/n-ya”. He took off his black coat and put it on over my shoulders.

Chopper giggled a little and told us that he would be going ahead to take some pictures of a specific rock called the “Stone Turtle”.

We were left alone once again. The ambrosial scent of his coat invaded my senses, a sweet perfume with notes of tangerine, ginger and perhaps a little amber mixed with some marine breeze was the perfume Law probably used every day. I revelled on the smell and kept walking in silence next to him.

Suddenly a few bats appeared flying from a dark spot and I got scared as hell, so I jumped over Law. He held me tight to avoid us falling. “Don’t worry, they won't hurt you, I read at the entrance that some rare animals live in the tunnel, such as these bats”, he said to me with a calming voice while grabbing me tight in between his arms.

I looked up to him with a pouty face and he smiled at me with cuteness. I wished we could have stayed like that a long, long time, but sadly Usopp, Brook and Chopper came running, escaping from more bats chasing them. “Ahhh get away!!!”, “Ruuuuuun for your liiiiveeees”, “Robin where the hell did you bring us?, yohohoho”. (The bats were obviously being chased by Luffy…).

We separated as my terrorized friends passed in between us. And began to laugh as they kept running to where Nami was. That only meant one thing… a few bumps on their head.

A few minutes after, Sanji started asking us if we had seen Zoro. Of course, we haven’t, he was lost once again. On a big cave, full of tunnels that were almost a kilometre long each.

We spent almost half an hour searching for Zoro, until Robin found him. “Marimo, you have no sense of direction!! I told you not to separate from us!!”, shouted Sanji to the green hair boy, trying to cover how worried he was for him. “Oi, idiot cook, I didn’t get lost, you did!”.

We finally left the cave and returned to the surface. Outside it was warmer enough for us to head to our next destiny, the Sanbangsan mountain hot springs. We only had to drive a few kilometres to get there.

The girls and I were pretty much excited because we could show off our new bikinis, so we got changed into them and headed to the natural pools of thermal water. The boys were already inside, enjoying the warm bubbly water.

“Look at these sexy ladies!, wanna be our friends?” said Franky joking around while helping Robin to enter the pool.

A few beads of sweat ran through my back, but I didn’t know if I was feeling hot due to the steamy water or because of the image of Law half naked, exposing his whole tattooed chest, with his head thrown back, eyes closed and his hair wet.

I fixed my eyes on his anatomy, the well-defined abs, the tattoos on his arms, how his fingers played with the water around him. I dreamt with open eyes of how I wanted to travel with my tongue all over his tanned skin, every little mark he had, any spot.

Law opened his eyes, and still with his head thrown back, gave me the sexiest look accompanied with a little laugh, “heh”.

If we were alone I might have jumped over his lap and fucked him right there. “Oi, Y/n!!”. A voice pulled me out of my dreaminess. “What is it Nami?” I asked my friend who was flailing me by my arm. “You two should go and fuck right now, we are getting a little bit uncomfortable with all of that sexual tension you both have”, reprimanded me my redhaired friend. “Shut up…”.

We stayed there chatting and relaxing more than two hours, the sun was setting, and the cloudy sky showed precious colours.

I decided that I should go take a shower to rinse the sodium out of my skin on the community showers of the complex. I had planned the way I was going to stand up, trying to show my “sexy ass” to Law, for the last half hour. So, I executed my plan almost perfectly… and said almost because when I decided to walk looking at Law over my shoulder I slipped with some sort of slippery substance on the rocks. I almost felt but while trying to keep balance I got a sprained ankle.

Law and Chopper ran to save me, as the good future doctors they were, but I wished I had killed myself. The embarrassment invaded my body… damn.

“You only have a sprained ankle, Y/n-ya, don’t worry with some ice and ibuprofen you’ll be good in no time”, said Law softly examining my ankle. My eyes were teary, my cheeks red and everyone was trying to hold their laughter. Vivi approached us and told Torao to bring me home first, so I could put some ice there, and as she said so she winked an eye at me. Damn Vivi, she knew me more than anyone there. I realized that I have created unintentionally the perfect excuse to be alone at last with Law, and she was helping me.

Robin brought me a towel and I tried to stand up, but my foot hurt more than I thought, “Auch, auch, auch…”. Law didn’t hesitate and carried me in his arms bridal style to his car.

“Be careful, don’t hit your head”, Law said while helping me sit on the front seat of the yellow car. I wasn’t speaking, I was too embarrassed to even say thank you.

He started the car and began to drive down the mountains through the winding road. Ahead, a breath-taking landscape was shown. The sun slowly disappeared in between the mountains, and the lights of the city defined the coast. The sky was now fully covered in stormy clouds, and a few lightings began to show in between the menacing cumulonimbus above us.

“Finally, alone”, said Law breaking the silence. I looked how focused on the road he was, worshiping his profile, the piercings on her ear, the muscles on his neck. I plucked up courage and asked, “do you still have the idea you told me yesterday over text?”. “I do, plans might have changed a little, but I think we could still make it, do you trust me?”, he said.

I wanted to know about what was going to happen, but the thrill of it being a surprise, letting him lead the way made me accept right away, “I do, lead the way doctor”.

We finally arrived at the city and the surgeon parked the car without turning the engine off. He grabbed his phone and searched something. The GPS immediately began to give directions to a specific address, so he got back to driving. “Wait a second, do you want something special?, I’m buying you some anti-inflammatories for your ankle”. “Oh thanks, uhm nothing else” I told him while he unfastened his seat belt and got out of the car.

Some minutes later, he handed me the analgesics and a bottle of water. While drinking from the bottle I could see from the corner of my eye how he quickly put away something on the glove box.

I was still using my bikini and a towel to cover me, so I asked Law if he could help me reach my bag from the back seat to put on a dress. He agreed and passed me the backpack, and then helped me put the dress. He also put on a clean shirt over his swim shorts.

“Are you hungry? What about a spontaneous dinner date?”, he said rubbing his thumb over my cheek. I smiled, satisfied, because after all his plans weren’t simply fucking. “Do you prefer something fancy or something more private?, I’m not trying to be cheap, it’s just that if we decide to go somewhere fancy we should come back home to get dressed properly”. Even if I were dressed like a princess I wouldn’t have chosen the “fancy” restaurant. Truth was that I didn’t want to waste any time, I didn’t want more interruptions, I wanted to be alone with him.

“I prefer something more private. We can go to this place on the beach, it isn’t luxurious, but I saw some photos on my phone”, I said to him while searching for the place web page on my phone. He smiled while looking at the screen of my cell phone. He seemed happy with my choice, and I could see why. He was a quiet and reserved man, so this place was perfect for our “first date”.

We drove to the location and left the car on the parking lot next to the pretty little restó. The intensity of the pain in my ankle was now pretty low so I was able to walk normally. Law, though, told me he would help me and grabbed my arm, so we walked together at the entrance. I don’t know if it was because of my sprained ankle or simply just an excuse for physical contact. In any case I was happy about it.

A maître that reminded me of Sanji welcomed us inside and took us to a little table next to the sand over a wooden deck with warm yellow lights strips, garnishing the also wooden roof. In the distance, over the horizon, the moon was vaguely peeping through the stormy clouds. Nami’s predictions for tonight seemed to be a few hours away to come true.

A tall, slim waitress came to us and asked if we had already chosen our food, without taking her eyes off Law. She was clearly trying to flirt with him, and I was burning inside… I got jealous, really jealous. Yet I couldn’t say anything, after all this was our first date. Law calmly gazed at me and told the maiden “My beautiful girlfriend and I will have two bowls of bulgogi”. Wait, what?... beautiful girlfriend?...

The waitress gave me a dirty look and walked away. “Ha, suck it, he is mine!”. I thought and giggled. I preferred not to ask about him calling me “his girlfriend”, but instead I changed the topic. We chatted a little bit about our careers, specialities and about surgery. Despite the unfriendly appearance he radiates, talking to him was easy, I felt as if I have known him for years.

We finished our plates and decided to leave the place. He opened the car door for me and helped me to get inside. To be honest I had forgotten about my injured ankle at that point, but he was still taking care of me in a chivalrous way. Mr. Donquixote raised him well…

“Let’s go to the beach”, he said in an adventurous tone. The storm was then over us and at any moment the rain could start, so I told him, a little confused, “It’s about to rain, are you sure?”. “I am, trust me. You won’t get wet… at least not for the rain”, he said smirking. I squirmed a little with those words, he sounded so sexy…

He drove along the boulevard next to the beach. Suddenly, he parked the car. “We are here, let’s go”, he said. He held my hand and softly pulled me leading the way through a little path over the sand made out of wood.

The path led to the entrance of an old lighthouse. A few raindrops began to wet my cheeks when we got to the entrance of the beacon. “What is this place, Law?” I asked him, curious. “My grandfather was in charge of this lighthouse some years ago, then the government built a more modern beacon on the port of Jeju, so my grandfather retired. Yet the commune decided to maintain it as part of the city, and also because I guess my grandad was appreciated by the people of Jeju.” I saw a copper commemorative plaque with the name “In loving memory of Mr. Trafalgar Law”. “You have the same name, how cute…” I told him as he opened the door, and we entered the place to take shelter from the cold rain that started pouring over us.

He asked me to wait at the entrance and headed to the back part of the place. He turned on the lights and I could see how the place had been decorated with string lights, pillows on the floor, some blankets, and a few candles that he began to light one by one. He did this just for me?...

“I… I hope you like it. I don’t know if you are really into romantic stuff. The guys helped me yesterday, while you went to sleep”. My eyes got somehow a little bit watery, no one has ever made anything remotely similar to this for me, it was just perfect. “I love it, Law. This is so perfect…”, I said and ran to him -my ankle did hurt a little, but I didn’t really care -. “Careful…” he said, receiving me with open arms.

I softly planted a kiss on his lips, and slowly we sat over the pillows. He grabbed my face with his hands and stopped kissing me just to look into my eyes. My back slowly approached the pillows and now I was laying there with Law settled over me...

Part 4

62 notes · View notes

crowsnests · 3 years

Text

taste of certainty - part three

Fandom: The Arcana Pairing: Julian Devorak x OC Apprentice (Syran Elkas) Tags: friends to lovers; modern times au; friend group dynamic; slow burn; pining; really just Julian being Julian and Syran being Oblivious Words: 7453 Warnings: mention of anxiety, migraines, insomnia, alcohol

part 1 2 3 4 5

playlist

I see the walls that are torn and bent The tug of war in the now, not yet Holding back what they can contain Can you tell me why I feel this way?

- trust; half-alive

III. sweet hurricane

Wednesdays are chill enough workdays, usually. It’s when Miss Eirsdottir has the least meetings, so Syran gets to calmly sit at her desk, processing new proposals and arranging schedules.

Not this Wednesday, though.

Miss Eirsdottir has Syran basically assist Varya in running all sorts of errands: moving from one side to the building to the other, carrying boxes of products for her to review, making sure the interns get the right coffees for the guests in the meetings, rushing to bring important folders to the PR office, assisting in said meetings. Varya is nice and helps Syran feel more at ease with the amount of workload, but it’s still quite stressful.

Syran forgot the days close to the launch of a new product could get so hectic. Her recurring migraine starts to make itself heard.

In the midst of it all, she gets a moment to catch her breath, during her lunch break. She goes and sits outside, despite the cold, on a bench in the courtyard inside the building. As she unfurls her lunchbox – a chicken sandwich, a carrot, and a bunch of blueberries – Asra and Pasha join her at the bench.

“Well, you look like shit,” Asra says, not even bothering with formalities as he sits down and opens his ricebox. A spiced scent trails out from it.

“Thanks, feel like it, too,” Syran answers, then bites into her carrot. Her head is pounding with pain and the nausea that comes with it doesn’t make her food look all that appealing, but she’s used to it at this point. She vaguely explains the reason for her exhaustion, her two friends nodding in understanding.

“Yeah, this week is tough, huh?” Pasha looks concerned as she takes out her lunch from her bag. A clear box with pasta in it and some orange juice.

“Yeah, pre-release is hell up in management,” Syran sighs.

“Well, at least you get to have fun next weekend! It’s gonna be a blast.” Pasha winks.

Syran looks at her confused, blinks a couple times, her brain slowly moving its gears together.

Asra looks at her pointedly, mouthing something.

Syran can’t decipher it, but a light goes on in her brain nonetheless.

“Oh shit, it’s your birthday! Yeah! Can’t wait for that!”

“You and Nadi always know how to throw a good party, I’m excited,” Asra smiles, bright eyes wrinkled up in joy. He does love partying.

Pasha laughs, then goes on to describe how she’s planned this carefully, how the theme is Vintage Masquerade, or something, and how she can’t wait to see everyone’s costumes. Asra engages with her eagerly, giving advice for decorations and getting excited over the food.

There and then, Syran realises two things.

One: she has no fucking clue what to wear to something like that.

Two: she’s supposed to see Ilya today and get Pasha a present.

As if summoned, her phone goes off. Ilya’s name on the screen makes her insides squirm but she opens the text trying not to arouse suspicion.

dr. hulian - 13:12 Do you think Pasha would like this?

Attached to the message, there’s a picture of a– well, a skull, looking pretty real and being held by what’s clearly Ilya’s hand. Syran finds it a little eerie, but she can’t hold her smile back.

To: dr. hulian - 13:13 Mmmh, maybe if you decorated it a bit?

She starts eating her sandwich, itching to get a reply, but acts as if it’s nothing. She gets back into the conversation with Pasha and Asra, trying to get distracted. Asra is now suggesting he could give tarot readings to the guests for a little bit during the party, Pasha seems elated at the idea.

Then, Syran’s phone vibrates again.

from: dr. hulian - 13:16 - You mean like this? - His name is Ferdinand, by the way

This time, the skull has a thin golden scarf with an intricate flower pattern tied all around, complete with a fancy bow on top. It’s ridiculous and endearing at the same time. Syran tries to stifle a laugh.

To: dr. hulian - 13:18 - hell yeah, ferdinand looks perfect in that, love it - where did he get that, looks extremely fashionable

from: dr. hulian - 13:18 - We stole it from nadia’s bag while she went to the bathroom. I suspect mere seconds before we get punished for our crime. - oh no, she found us

Syran laughs again, this time she can’t hide it as she types a reply.

To: dr. hulian - 13:19 - Just blame it on Ferdinand! i’m sure she’ll understand

“–kay, what’s going on, Syran?”

“Huh?” She blinks up at the two pairs of eyes scrutinising her.

“Who’re you texting?” Asra looks smug, ready to pounce.

“Looks like a pretty nice convo you’re having there.” Pasha adds, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hand.

Syran scrambles for a reply. There’s no way in hell she’s going to be honest with them on this, not today.

Or ever, probably.

“Just– Ran. She was showing me her dogs, back at home,” She smiles at the end, desperately hoping to sell the lie.

Pasha lights up at the word dogs, but Asra doesn’t seem convinced.

“Really? She never mentioned dogs to me,” He narrows his eyes.

“Oh, yeah, she has two mixed breeds and– and a parrot.”

I mean, it’s not as much of a lie as a past truth. Ran used to have two dogs and a parrot in her old home. Now it’s just one of the dogs, who’s gotten pretty old, too.

“That’s cute! Can I see?” Pasha eagerly leans over to glance at Syran’s phone, now sitting face up on the table.

“Uh– I– I guess–” just as Syran tries to make something up, the phone goes off again, this time with a call. Ilya’s name flashes on the display for everyone to see.

Syran just stares at it, startled.

“Well, aren’t you going to answer?” Asra suggests, teasingly.

Syran chuckles nervously, then reaches for the phone.

“Hello?”

From the other side there’s noises and two distinct voices arguing, albeit muffled. None of them talking to her.

“H– hello?” she tries again, this time genuinely confused.

“–ust for a second! Don’t get mad at me, come on–”

“–you should know better than to steal from me, Ilya,”

“Come on, Nadi– ust a joke!”

“–going to have a better excuse– this was a gift!”

Asra and Pasha lean closer to try and hear what’s going on, but Syran swats them away.

“Must be a butt dial or something,” she mutters, just as Ilya keeps talking and exclaims an apology.

Pasha rolls her eyes. “Is it my brother?”

As Nadia seems to reprimand Ilya more, Syran nods, looking confused enough for her friends to frown with her.

“– an excuse to talk!” Ilya’s exclamation gets Syran's attention.

“You’re a lost cause, Devorak,” This time Nadia’s voice is a little more clear.

“I know,” Ilya says.

When they go silent Syran tries again.

“Uhhh, hello?”

More noises. Something scrambling by the mic.

“Oh, shi– goddamn– hello? Syran? That you?”

“Yep,” She deadpans, avoiding Pasha and Asra’s eyes, “In the flesh.”

“Uh– did you– did you call me?”

“I believe you called me, Ilya,” she arches an eyebrow.

On the other side of the table, Pasha is making a kissy face and hugging herself, then mouths the word smooch. Next to her, Asra snickers. Syran rolls her eyes and turns on her seat, her back facing them.

“Ah. Right. Well, that was– not intentional. I was– discussing, with Nadia, you see.” Ilya utters, embarrassed.

“I figured,” Syran laughs, “Pretty important discussion, it seems.”

“Uh– did you hear much of that?”

Syran could barely understand, really. “Nope, mostly that Nadia’s mad about your theft.” She smiles.

“Yes, indeed. But Ferdinand and I will be okay,” He laughs, clearly more relaxed. “We fought hard and we lost our treasure, but we came out of it unscathed.”

“That’s not true–” Nadia chimes in from somewhere next to him.

Syran can’t help but laugh louder at Ilya’s theatrics this time, “Well, I’m glad you’re alive, at least.”

She is also glad that her friends can’t see her face right now, because it would be so, so, incriminating.

“So, uh, well,” Ilya continues, “Since we’re here, I was– I was wondering if you’re still on for later? For the– uh– secret mission?” Syran smirks at the way he whispers it, not subtle at all.

Suddenly aware not only of the pair of devils behind her, but also of the fact her and Ilya’s mission involves a surprise for one of them, Syran tries to not give herself away. She also probably needs to close the call, before she makes things worse for herself.

“Yep, yep, sure.” She says, quickly. “No worries.”

“Oh, great, so I’ll come–” Ilya starts.

“Yeah, work’s definitely busy today!”

“Uhm, okay, so– does that mean–”

“No, it’s fine!” Syran exclaims, trying her best to act convincingly. “Well, good luck with your– things!”

“Okay, bu–”

Syran hangs up before Ilya can finish.

“Wow,” Asra says from behind her.

Syran breathes in and takes a moment to turn back towards them, then hides her face in her sandwich.

“You two were straight-up flirting,” Pasha says, smile on her face.

Syran talks with a bite of sandwich in her mouth. “Do you even know what flirting entails? Because that was not it. That was a normal conversation. If that was flirting, then I’d be flirting with all of you. All the time. That’s not flirting.”

Cool, now she's talking way too much.

“Ah, the sweet taste of denial,” Asra sighs, dramatic and starry-eyed.

“Seriously, you guys are delusional.” Syran gives one last bite to her sandwich. “That was just an accidental dial, nothing more.”

“Yes, but why, oh, why, I wonder, was it to you? Were you so high up in his recent contacts?” Pasha squints at her, sly.

“You’re reaching. We all have a groupchat together, it could have been for any reason. You know how clumsy Ilya can be.” Syran shrugs, praying that they’ll let her live. Seriously, she does not deserve this torture. “Why are you guys so obsessed with this anyway?”

Pasha and Asra exchange a look, then they both lean back, in sync.

“Okay,” Asra states. He narrows his eyes and crosses his fingers on the table like he's a renowned detective, or something. “Let’s assume you’re right.”

“Which I am–”

“Did you mind, though?”

“What?”

“Did you mind that Ilya butt-dialed you?”

“What sort of question is that?” Syran widens her eyes, taken aback. Really, why are they so stubborn.

“Just answer, perp!” Pasha points a finger at her. Now it really feels like Syran is in an interrogation room.

“I have nothing to answer, because that is a stupid question.” She closes her lunch box with finality, looking straight into Pasha’s eyes.

“Admit it!” Asra slams a hand on the table, “You enjoy talking to him!”

Syran groans, exasperated, “Of course I do, he’s my friend! It would be mean if I didn't!”

Pasha and Asra smile at each other, “We got her, chief.” Pasha says.

“You got nothing,” Syran glares at them, “I’m going back to work.”

She gets up and gathers her things, ignoring the chorus of booos coming from her friends.

God, she loves them to bits, but they can be so annoying at times.

🂱

Somehow, she manages to slither away from the others and get back home safe.

After having sent Ilya a few explanatory texts and having agreed to meet at a cafe nearby, she finally takes a look in the mirror.

She really does look tired. Without distractions around her, the migraine is harder to ignore. She takes a relief pill and washes her ruined makeup, her face feeling cleaner. The heaviness of the day is starting to take a toll on her, she can feel it in her muscles.

When she checks the time, she realises that she’s going to be late if she doesn’t hurry up.

Quickly, she reapplies her makeup as best as she can, then throws on some clean and more comfortable clothes.

Persephone meows at her from the foot of her bed; it’s almost as if she’s smirking at her, knowing more than she lets on.

“Oh, not you too,” Syran pleads.

🂱

When she arrives at the cafe, Ilya is waiting by the entrance, casually leaning on the wall behind him. She takes a moment to look at him while he’s distracted by his phone, all perfectly styled auburn hair and dark clothes. She hates how good he looks.

(She doesn’t hate it, really, but she’ll die before she admits it.)

When he meets her eyes, a big smile sparks on his face.

“Hey,” she waves. “Hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“Hey,” he echoes, “Not at all.”

“Shall we?”

“Ah, yes, uh– should we get some coffee to go, first, since I owe you that?” He smirks, but then his eyes glance down to the side straight away. “That’s if– if you want, of course.”

“Sounds great!” Syran nods, delighted at the thought of a hot beverage in her hands.

The cafe is cozy and warm, most of the tables are filled with people chatting or working on their laptops.

As they wait in line, Ilya and Syran talk a little about their days, how Ilya’s research is driving him insane, how Syran’s boss gave her a hundred errands until late.

“Yikes, that must be tiring,” Ilya says, concerned, as they wait for their drinks.

Ilya has ordered a black coffee with a splash of milk, Syran has opted for a matcha latte. She likes coffee, but on days like this it makes her a little too jittery.

“Yeah, I mean, no more tiring than any other job. Plus, I learn a lot. Miss Eirsdottir is tough, but she’s brilliant.” Syran finds herself fiddling with her hands. “Hopefully one day I get to do more of the parts that I really love, though.”

Ilya smiles down at her, handing her the drink. There’s a glint in his eyes that makes Syran feel light. “I’m sure you will.”

Finding a present for Pasha isn’t as easy as they thought. They scurry through shops, trying things, looking at clothes, bags, books, videogames, jewelry, vinyl records– they contemplate wine at some point but realise Nadia would like that more. Then they go back to books, but nothing seems right.

Syran would lie if she said she isn’t having fun, though. Despite some moments where she really wishes she could hide her blush, she and Ilya fall into a rhythm made of jokes, laughter, chatter, and comfortable silences.

It’s nice. Really nice. It's. You know. Friendship.

Eventually, they walk by a window that’s displaying a various array of scarfs, ranging in colours and materials.

Syran does a double-take and spots a muted orange one that makes her think of Pasha immediately.

“That one!” She exclaims pointing at the glass.

“Huh?” Ilya seems taken aback, interrupted in the middle of his story on how he once got his hand stuck in a vending machine.

“Look at that scarf, isn’t it perfect for Pasha?”

Ilya squints at the glass, trying to figure out what Syran is pointing at. “The orange one?”

“Yep! It looks so pretty!” Syran turns to him, beaming, “We should go see it!”

Ilya nods, smiling back.

The scarf turns out to be even better than they thought. It’s made of soft and light cotton, with a delicate golden pattern woven on the edges. Ilya seems elated, saying that she will love it, right? Will she love it, Syran? I think she will.

Syran smiles at his excitement, glad to see him happy about the choice. The clerk wraps it up in a beautiful gift box, eagerly explaining how the cotton is of a refined but durable quality, it makes for perfect everyday use, but also works really well for more elegant events. Ilya listens intently, as if he’s trying to remember all of it to then tell Pasha.

Ilya has a big smile plastered on his face as they exit the shop, then he turns to Syran and hugs her, all-encompassing. She’s startled, but she gingerly hugs him back.

“Thank you so much, seriously,” He mutters in her hair.

She really really hopes he can’t hear how loud her heart is beating this time.

It’s not a crush.

Is it?

When he pulls back, they’re both a little flustered. “Ehm– I mean, yeah. Thank you.”

Syran is still trying to regain herself from the sudden hug, but something in Ilya’s tone makes her wonder.

“Can I ask you something?”

Ilya seems a little surprised by the question, but nods nonetheless. “Sure.”

“Why were you so worried about this? Besides the regular stuff you told me, like. What are you really worried about?” More than out of curiosity, Syran is asking because she can sense that there’s still something bothering Ilya.

He blinks, eyes wide. Then he looks down, as if caught in the act.

“Well– I– to be honest, it’s been a little tough lately, and the work at the university isn’t helping. So I haven’t been able to be there for Pasha as much as I’d like.” He sighs, but Syran gives him time, sensing that’s not the whole story.

He looks at her, visibly worried now. “And. Well. Pasha and I have– not always been close. Our parents divorced when we were fairly young and we took different paths after I graduated high school. I left, wanting to get away from it all, and she stayed. I made mistakes, resented her for it. We argued a lot, eventually had a big fight, and– didn’t talk for a while after that. It didn’t feel good, but I was reckless and hurt and too prideful.”

He looks so sad Syran can’t help but reach out to hold one of his gloved hands. Then, he smiles, although a little bitterly. Syran thinks she sees tears in her eyes. Her heart drops to her stomach.

Ilya continues, “I mean, we fixed things in the past years and now that we live in the same town it’s great, but– I still feel like there’s an unspoken distance. I fucked up so many times before–” He cuts himself off, like it pains him to go on. “So– yeah, I just want us to get close again– I feel like I need to make it up to her, somehow.”

He blinks the tears away, chuckling nervously. “God, you must think I’m an idiot.”

“What– no!” Syran’s chest is tight. She never imagined Ilya had all of this inside. She knew there was some sort of situation between the two of them, but Pasha never liked talking about it much.

“I–I think you’re very thoughtful. And mature for wanting to own up to things. It’s heartwarming to see how much you care,” She continues under his cautious stare. “Look– I don’t know, maybe it’s not my place, but I don’t think you need to make anything up to her. You’re a wonderful brother and person. Look at how much thought you’re putting into this! Whatever happened, I am– I’m sure she knows how much you love her. I can see how happy she is to have you back in her life, too – well, in between all the bickering.”

Ilya laughs at her last words and she joins, happy to see him smiling again.

Then, her gaze softens. “I think you will be just fine. You are trying really hard, you should give yourself a break.”

Ilya smiles, gentle. Then, he seems more relieved. “Thank you. You’re– uh. Quite good at pep talks.”

She winks, “I know.” She can’t help but squeeze his hand a little. He squeezes back. Syran feels a little dazed and her chest feels a little tight, her and Ilya exchanging a soft gaze.

She’s so fucking gone, it’s no use ignoring it.

It might just be a crush.

Then, Ilya’s eyes widen, and he gasps. “You still need a present!”

“Oh, yeah,” Syran realises, waking up from her thoughts, “We don’t have to get it right now, though, I can always–”

“Nope, you helped me, now it’s your turn! Let’s go!”

He drags her through more streets like he’s a kid on a mission, it makes Syran laugh. They stop at various shops, once again searching for something perfect.

She can’t deny it, though, there’s a newfound feeling between them, maybe one of strengthened trust. They’re both laughing more, feeling more comfortable with each other than before.

Finally, a small antique shop catches Ilya’s eye. Syran walks back to look at the window with him.

It’s filled with various objects, old pocket watches, silver paraphernalia, old vases and pots, ragged dolls. Ilya seems enthralled by an old model ship, perched precariously on a small shelf.

“My grandma used to have one like that in her house,” He smiles, fondly. “I demanded to play with it whenever we visited, but she always told me it was too delicate to even look at, let alone touch.” He laughs. “I’d get all whiny then, but I get it now.” He turns to Syran, almost a little sorrowful.

“Some things are just too delicate to be reckless with.”

Syran blinks at him, ignoring the blood rushing to her ears. She turns to look at the ship again.

“I don’t know,” she says, “It looks pretty sturdy to me. It might not be ruined, but now it’s sitting in a dusty display.” She turns to him and shrugs. “Isn’t it better to enjoy things while they last, instead of holding back? ”

She’s not sure they’re talking about the ship anymore– Ilya’s gaze on her makes her breath hitch in her throat.

She turns to the window again, flustered. As she stares intently, she realises that there is a little jewelry display on the bottom. In the midst of overly ornate rings and delicate pendants, she notices what looks like a brooch.

“Hey, what do you think of that?” She points at it, hoping that Ilya will see it amongst all the things.

He leans over her shoulder– too close to her, it takes all her might not to wince, ignoring the butterflies eating at her stomach. “Which one?”

“The– uh– the little brooch with the flowers?” She looks closer. It seems like real dried flowers encased in resin. They’re small and of a pale yellow, with a few crimson ones, on a white background. A delicate pattern made of golden metal frames it.

Ilya gasps, “That looks wonderful! It might go well with the scarf too!”

Syran agrees, although she hadn’t thought of that. She swallows, then suggests they head into the store.

As she talks to the owner, Ilya looks around the shop, curiously admiring the various displays. The brooch is even more beautiful up close, and the shopkeeper explains to her how this is special and one of a kind. Promises that she will give Syran a good price for it. She thanks the woman, and asks if she can wrap it as a gift.

“No problem, dear,” The lady says, reaching for a little red satin bag. As she fills it with some cotton to shield the brooch, she glances up at Ilya, who’s now looking at a small display of old books.

“Those ones are almost all first editions, you know,” she tells him.

“Oh– really?” Ilya turns, eyes filled with wonder. “They seem well preserved!”

“Of course,” The lady nods, delicately putting the brooch inside the bag, “I only get the best quality things.”

Ilya laughs, then moves onto another window. The lady slowly ties the bag with a textured ribbon, “Your boyfriend’s got a good eye,” she whispers.

Syran’s eyes widen, and she starts to stutter. “Oh– n– he’s not– we’re not together– he’s not my boyfriend.” She matches the shopkeeper’s tone, hoping that Ilya hasn’t heard them. Luckily, he seems too enthralled by the various objects to notice.

The lady throws another look at Ilya, then raises an eyebrow with a sly smile. “Are you sure?”

Syran doesn’t know how to answer for a second. Then she nods, slowly. “Yeah, uh. I am.”

When they leave the shop, Syran sighs in relief. Partly, because she’s got a present she’s really happy with. And also because she’s out of the shopkeeper's enquiring gaze.

“Happy?” Ilya asks her, smiling.

Syran looks up at him, startled. “Ye–yes! Very! I really hope she’ll like it.”

“Oh, she will,” he reassures her.

As they make their way back, Ilya starts wondering about what to wear at the party.

“I mean, I love her, but what sort of theme is Vintage Masquerade? Like, couldn’t she pick something simple? I don’t know, casual party attire?”

Syran laughs, although she agrees. She has no idea what to wear either.

“I mean, you kind of got it easy, you could throw on some slacks, a shirt, and some suspenders or something. Or a vest. Those are vintage.” She shrugs. She doesn’t know much about this stuff, really, but she does like dressing up. That is, when the theme is clear and easy.

“I guess– not even sure I have a vest, though,” Ilya ponders.

“Well, hey, you’re going to have to ditch your bomber jacket anyway.”

He gasps, fake offended. “Excuse me, this is my piece of resistance! Keeps me warm and looks amazing!”

Syran laughs it off, “Sure, but– still doesn’t quite hit the mark, does it?”

Ilya huffs like a pouting child. It’s endearing. “Whatever, I’ll figure something out, I guess.” Then he turns back to Syran.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are you gonna wear?”

Oh. With all the business of the day, she had forgotten to look for clothes or even think about it. Again.

“Uhmm–” She thinks back to her wardrobe. Mentally scans through her more formal things.

“Dunno– I guess I have a lilac dress I could wear? It’s kind of vintage? It’s the best I can do, honestly.” She huffs a small laugh, but the more she thinks about it the more she thinks the dress will be fine.

It’s made of a light and flowy material, with a high neck that closes with a few small buttons, leaving a drop–like window on the chest. It’s a delicate dress, but the knee-length skirt and cut are vintage-inspired, at least.

“That sounds nice,” Ilya hums. “Now we just gotta find some masks to go with it,” he sighs.

“Oh, well, we have about a week for that, at least.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Ilya frowns as if he’s trying to think where he could possibly find a mask.

“Although I think Pasha said there will be an array of masks to choose from at the party? Nadia knew a place or something, I think it’s to prevent people from showing up without one,” Syran realises with a smile, thinking of Pasha’s resolve and Nadia’s attention to details.

“Well, one less thing to worry about then,” Ilya sighs. “Although I hope to find one that works with my look. I’m a man of fashion, after all.”

“You could always make one,” Syran cackles, playfully hitting his arm. “And you didn’t know what to wear until I told you!”

He laughs back, teasing. “Hey, doesn’t mean I can’t dress at all!”

Syran’s smile only gets wider. It stays like that even after they’ve parted ways.

🂱

Syran doesn’t know how she got roped into this.

It all started with Asra and Nadia inviting her out for a few drinks– sure, it’s a Friday night, what’s a cocktail going to do?

So she got ready, wore one of her favourite outfits just as an incentive to feel more like going out, and met Asra at their usual place.

Except, when she arrived at the Raven, Asra and Nadia weren’t the only ones sitting at the table. A familiar head filled with auburn hair was sitting next to them, too.

Syran joined them, all smiles and greetings, and then dived immediately for the bar– anything to escape Asra’s knowing smile, Nadia’s attentive eyes, and Ilya’s annoyingly pretty face.

The bar isn’t too crowded, but thankfully still enough for her to blend with the people around her. She leans at the counter, waiting for a familiar face to greet her. Tonight Joon is working, which makes her smile. Since she and Asra have been coming here, he’s quickly become friends with them. She orders and idly chats with Joon as he makes her drink.

“Getting the usual?” A deep voice startles her.

Oh, she really can’t escape this shit.

She looks up at Ilya, who’s smirking at her. She does feel more relaxed around him now, but there are still moments like this, where he sneaks up on her and all of her blood rushes to her cheeks. To add insult to injury, Syran’s eyes can’t help but trail to Ilya’s outfit. He’s wearing a sleek black turtleneck that fits him like a glove. She doesn’t know if she hates this more or the shirts with the unbuttoned tops.

She turns back towards the bar, “Yep. Oaxaca old-fashioned all the way, baby.”

She taps her fingers on the wood and leans a little forward to look behind the counter, where Joon is just about to hand her the glass.

She grabs it with a smile, carefully taking the first sip. “Ah– you’re the best, Joon. Thank you.”

“Anytime, dear,” Joon winks at her. She loves him, honestly, and not only because he’s nice and handsome. He genuinely makes her laugh and has helped her more than a few times when unpleasant patrons have bothered her.

“Well, good, because I’ll definitely be back for another one,” she smirks and winks back.

Joon laughs, then turns to Ilya, “what can I get you?”

When Syran looks up at Ilya as she takes another sip from her glass, she notices the weird expression on his face. He’s almost frowning at Joon, but she brushes it down to his bushy eyebrows. He can unintentionally look like he’s glaring at people, when the light is right.

Then, he turns to Syran with a sly smile, “You know, I’ve never had an Oaxaca old-fashioned.”

She swallows, then puts the glass down, “You should! The ones Joon makes are god-tier.” Syran suggests excitedly.

Ilya seems to ponder on it for a second, “Mhh– but what if I don’t like it?”

Ilya’s never struck Syran for the indecisive type. But then again, maybe he just really wants to get a good drink right now. He seems to come to a realisation, just then.

“Ah– what if I tried yours?” He asks, genuine, but with a weird glint in his eyes. Syran did not expect the question, it leaves her a little dumbfounded.

“S–sure, why not–” She hands him the glass, and he grabs it, eagerly.

“Thank you,” Ilya proceeds to take a small sip from the glass, and Syran can’t help but notice that’s almost where she drank from, his lips dangerously close to the subtle stain of her lipstick.

Syran throws a glance at Joon, who’s patiently waiting for them. He shoots her a questioning look, raising an eyebrow. She just kinda shrugs.

Ilya puts the glass back on the counter, “That’s actually really really good.” He looks at it like he’s surprised.

“Told ya’,” Syran smirks.

When they get back to their table, equal drinks in their hands, Nadia and Asra are animatedly engaged in conversation. They kinda stop when Syran and Ilya arrive, turning to them with coy smiles.

Asra notices the drink in Ilya’s hand and then gasps, “Wow, she convinced you? She’s been trying to get me to drink that since forever.”

Syran rolls her eyes, “I gave up, you clearly only like extremely sweet shit–”

“And happily so,” Asra mocks her, then turns to Ilya again. “You actually like it?”

Ilya nods as if he doesn’t see what the fuss is all about, “Yeah, it’s really good.”

“It’s not as bad as you make it to be, Asra,” Nadia chimes in.

Ilya shrugs, then takes another sip. Syran can’t help but smile proudly at Asra, like she’s won an ongoing battle between the two of them.

“Well, it’s good to see you both have clearly similar tastes,” Asra says, before carefully drinking from the straw in his tall glass, filled with a bright pink cocktail. Both Ilya and Syran widen their eyes.

“Ah– guess so,” Ilya chuckles.

“Yeah,” Syran mutters, glaring at Asra. “Anyway, you guys noticed how they changed the backlight of the sign behind the bar? I actually like it better now,” Syran starts, trying to sway the conversation.

Maybe it’s not as graceful as she’d like, but it works. They all start talking about the bar and its decor, how they’ve always loved this place; time passes by and soon they’re all a little flushed and tipsy, except Nadia, who’s the designated driver for the night.

Then, at one point, Asra’s eyes trail behind Syran, and they widen in shock.

“Oh shit,” He says, crouching down as if to hide behind his drink. Nadia puts a hand on Asra’s back, concerned.

“What?” Both Syran and Ilya turn towards where Asra looked, trying to figure out what happened.

“Don’t look, you idiots!” Asra whispers, angry. “Valerius is here! Shit!”

Syran then realises, “Oh, fuck, really? I thought he didn’t come here anymore!”

“Yeah, well, he’s by the counter. Shit, fuck!”

“Who’s– uh– who’s Valerius?” Ilya asks, clearly confused.

“Asra’s awful ex,” Nadia explains, “he was an asshole and we all hate him, viciously.” She’s got fire in her eyes, and Syran knows she is mirroring it herself.

“He fucking– he cheated on me and then said it was my fault. It was– it was fucking awful.” Asra looks like he’s about to cry. Syran wants to reach for him and hug him. She knows Asra’s wound is still fresh and knows how hard it was for him to move on from the hurt.

Ilya sneers, “That’s disgusting.”

“Damn right,” Nadia adds, glaring towards where Valerius is.

“Hey, it’s okay, we can leave if you want,” Syran reaches out for Asra’s hand, trying to reassure him.

He shakes his head, sneaking another glance, “Then he will have won. Again.”

“No, he will not,” Nadia declares, “If he says anything we’ll beat the shit out of him. Fuck, even Joon will be on our side on this.”

“Nadia’s right,” Ilya adds, “Plus, I’ve dabbled in bar brawling before.”

It makes the table laugh, if a little, but it lightens the mood. It doesn’t last long, though.

“Shit– is that? Is that Lucio? Are you fucking kidding me?” Asra says, now even angrier than before.

“Oh, hell no–” Nadia goes to get up, but Asra holds her down.

“Nadi no, I just– I don’t want to see them.”

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Nadia asks. Asra nods, gingerly.

“That’s cool, Asra, we can go–” Syran starts.

“Not all at once, though–” He says, resolute. “I don’t want to draw attention.”

There’s a joke Syran could make there about how Asra doesn’t exactly blend in the crowd, with his flashy fashion and white hair, but she knows that wouldn’t make him laugh right now– clearly, all he wants to do is disappear.

“How about this,” Nadia says, turning towards Syran and Ilya, hand still on Asra’s back, “I’ll take him home and you guys enjoy the rest of your drinks. You’ve barely started these glasses, while we’re almost done. You call me when you’re finished and I’ll come back to pick you up, okay?”

“Nadi, you don’t have to–” Ilya starts, but she waves a hand to interrupt him.

“It’s no problem, really,” she smiles kindly, “You guys just enjoy the night, yeah?”

Syran looks at Asra, now clearly on the verge of tears. Whether they’re from hurt or anger, she can’t tell. Probably a mix of both. But he knows what she’s about to say nonetheless.

“Don’t worry, S,– I’ll be okay, yeah? I asked you to come out, it’s just fair that you enjoy your time. Seriously.”

Syran nods, resigned, knowing how stubborn Asra can get. “Okay but–”

“I’ll call you later, promise.”

“Promise,” Syran retaliates. A concerned frown doesn’t leave her face, even as Asra and Nadia carefully slip out the table, then towards the end of the counter, well hidden from Valerius’ attention. Syran spots Nadia talking to Joon, probably asking him to let them out through the back.

And just like that, Syran is left at the table alone with Ilya, both of them in awkward silence, staring at their drinks. Finally, Ilya speaks.

“I’ve never– I’ve never seen Asra like that.”

Syran looks at him, notices the worry in his features as he twirls the glass in his hands.

“Yeah, he tries to hide his feelings, when he can, the idiot,” she smiles bitterly; stars know how many times she’s tried to tell Asra that bottling it all up doesn’t help anyone.

“I can understand that,” Ilya looks up at her. “I hate to pry but– who’s–”

“Lucio? The guy Valerius cheated with. Also, Nadia’s ex of like–” She tries to do mental math. “Four? Years ago?”

“Yikes,” Ilya just says, taking a big sip of his drink.

“Yep– it’s– a lot.” Syran sighs, “We thought he was going to be out of our life after Nadia broke up with his ass, but– guess not.”

She inhales, exhausted only at the thought of all that happened in the past. Things were definitely messier than now. She takes another swig of her drink.

“Well–” Ilya smiles, putting his glass down, “what if we did something about that?”

The glint in his eyes is mischievous, and Syran raises an eyebrow from behind her drink.

“What do you have in mind?”

🂱

Pranks have never been something Syran thought about. Never felt the need to fill someone’s shoes with toothpaste, or hide a fake spider in the bathroom, or whatever it is that the kids do these days. She always felt bad for those people in prank videos that get visibly hurt.

But this– she didn’t mind this one bit.

She and Ilya are running out of the bar, lungs filled with laughter, as Lucio and Valerius’ screams fade behind them. They run long enough until their legs give up, and even then, they find it in themselves to keep laughing.

“Jesus– their face– priceless!” Syran heaves out.

“I told you–” Ilya adds, big smile not leaving his face, eyes all crinkled up and blush on his cheeks. “Cranberry juice always works–”

They haven’t done anything that spectacular, really, but Syran will realise this later, when the adrenaline has rushed out of her. Right now, spilling juice on those two idiots’ white clothes and making Lucio trip on his ass was enough to make her night.

“Didn’t expect you to punch Valerius, though,” Ilya grins at her, as if impressed.

Yeah, and that too.

“Me neither– I don’t condone violence, but–” Syran finally feels her breath coming back to her, “–but, god, he deserved it.”

“Sure did–” Ilya laughs with her, adjusting his coat.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, all smiles and excitement, rush of electricity that Syran hadn’t felt in a while. Not like this.

“Well–” Ilya starts, “Maybe we should– uh. Go?”

“Yeah– I could call an uber?” Syran suggests.

“Actually, I was more thinking, like– I can walk you home, maybe?” He seems almost scared to ask for a second, but then his features relax. “Honestly, I feel bad calling Nadia now and it might be good to shake the alcohol off.” He looks up at the clear sky. “It’s a nice night, anyway.”

He’s right. It’s hard to see stars from the city, but the moon is bright and beautiful.

Syran doesn’t quite know what to say, though she agrees with not bothering Nadia. She is probably busy taking care of Asra right now, and that reassures her a lot. But Syran’s house is a good thirty minutes walk away, not to mention that Ilya would have to walk back through the city for more than that.

“I– I don’t know. It’s a long way for you– and it’s late–”

“Syran, I assure you that I’ll be fine, I like walking.” He chuckles, “If anything, I know you will punch whoever gets in our way.”

Syran laughs, although a little flustered under Ilya’s endeared stare. “Yeah, I’m basically a pro wrestler now.”

They end up chatting along the way, although the cold winter wind catches up on them, but they don’t mind that much. They’re too distracted by their conversation to think about that.

Getting to know each other like this, casually, with no pressure, without inhibitions, has become natural to them. They get to talk about things that they never addressed, make jokes that seem so dumb and niche they are surprised when the other laughs.

Ilya was the last one to join their group of friends, so she can imagine he felt a little distant from everyone else at first. But it’s been over a year now, and the group feels really solid, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together with harmony.

Still, Syran always felt like her and Ilya never really got to talk much like this, just the two of them. And maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the way Ilya makes her feel at ease, but she doesn’t feel as skittish around him anymore.

Sure, her heart still jumps when he laughs, and any little brush of their arms makes her breath hitch, but– but– there’s not much of an excuse for that, other than she’s clearly got feelings for him.

It is a crush. A heavy one at that.

But she can live with it, she can just enjoy their friendship and not act on them.

They are close to her building when they are laughing at a story Syran is telling, of one time where she and Asra got lost in a park and thought a ghost was haunting them.

“I swear, Asra tried to act all brave, but–” in the middle of the phrase, a strong fit of pain hits the side of her head. She had managed to ignore the creeping migraine until then, but suddenly, it feels like her brain is about to explode. She holds a hand to where the pain is, eyes shut and slightly crouching forward.

“Syran? You okay?” Ilya reaches a hand to her shoulder, tone immediately shifting to heavy concern.

“Yeah– just– I get migraines– sometimes,” she mutters through the pain.

“That’s not good,” Ilya says. “We’re almost to your place, you think you can make it?”

“Ye–yeah– sorry–”

“Why are you apologising? Had I known, I–”

“Don’t want you to worry,” she utters, finally feeling like she can open her eyes a little, “I’m used to it.”

It does nothing to ease Ilya’s concern though. If anything, he seems to worry more, reaching to fully encase Syran in his arm, supporting her as they walk.

“Really, I’ll be okay,” she says.

“Yeah, I’ll believe that when you’re home and feeling better,” He scoffs, his hand rubbing up and down Syran’s arm. “Don’t forget I’m basically a doctor.”

It makes Syran laugh a little, “Right, Doctor Devorak, ready to help.”

“Is that a mocking tone I’m sensing, Miss Elkas?”

“No–” Syran says, teasing, although through the pain, “I wouldn’t dare.”

Ilya laughs, then seems to hold her tighter. “Almost there.”

They finally reach her building, and she gingerly gets out her keys to open the door.

“Thank you,” she turns to say goodbye to him, “Get home safe.”

But he just stares at her. “Didn’t I say I’ll stop worrying until you’re home?”

Syran chuckles, “But I am–”

“Yeah, I meant home home. I’ll take you up–” then he widens his eyes, catching himself. “That’s if– if you’re okay with that, of course.”

Syran thinks about it for a second, but the pain is too strong to argue right now. She just nods and mutters a okay, and goes to let Ilya through before her.

Sometimes things just don’t go as planned, though.

As she’s about to follow behind him, something hits her shoulder, and hard. She turns just in time to see someone running past her, then she loses her balance and hits the floor.

The last thing Syran sees before passing out is Ilya’s hands reaching for her.

#an writes #fic writing #julianxapprentice #julianxsyran #julian devorak #portia devorak #ilya devorak #pasha devorak #nadia satrinava #lucio morgasson #asra alnazar #muriel #the arcana fic #the arcana #part 3

6 notes · View notes

shogetsus · 6 years

Text

Stripes of Auburn, Eye of Sapphire

10. Mai

Read on Ao3 | Read on FFN | Masterlist

Summary: "Soooo, anytime you want to let go of my hand, I can—" She adds with a hint of sarcasm, although doesn't truly mean that, deep down.

"Don't be shy, kitten. Come on!" His bright grin breaks all possible attempts for a negative, "I promise I don't bite… unless asked for, sure thing,"

Mai snorts, shaking her head as to try hiding the amused smile in her face. Somehow and for all intents and purposes, that hurricane of a man manages to draw her in every single time, as if they're bound by invisible handcuffs or another power in the universe.

Spoiler alert! - Mitsunari and Shingen's route. (I'm smooching and giving a golden star to the one who figures out the sort of easter egg here (?))

Mai

“Hey, settle down, you. We’re about to meet your ‘dad’, don’t be impatient,” The rowdy tiger in her arms meows longingly, refusing to stay still, making her flinch in pain as he claws on her shoulder. “Ow, ow! That hurts, boy!”

Coming to a stop, Mai first works on detaching the cub off her kimono, bringing him to her eye level and shooting a stern glare, straight into his yellowish eyes. “Alright, let’s make this straight. I want no clawing and no biting. Otherwise I’ll have to punish you and believe me, neither of us wants that. Are we clear?” As she formerly predicted, the little tiger doesn’t hold her gaze for much longer, rumbling softly and casting his eyes down to the floor, pretty much getting her warning.

“That’s a good boy,” Mai flashes a big smile and readjusts her grip on him, scratching the back of his ear as to reward that improved behavior. She gets a delighted purr in response. “Ah, you like this, don’t you? Aw, seems you do, yes you do!”

It’s a stroke of luck the ear scratching gesture appears to be generally accepted by all felines. And with the tiger quite more at ease—still squirming a little, yet at least not as desperate as he seemed to be put down after coming to a mutual understanding—by the time she reaches the northern side of Azuchi castle and Masamune’s manor comes to sight, Mai once again almost forgets why she was coming over there in the first place.

A pair of men clad in blue robes is stationed by the entrance, chatting idly. One of them, who she can only guess to be Masamune’s chief vassal, merely judging by the clothing, acknowledges her with a once over as she approaches.

“Excuse me. I’m the new chatelaine, Mai, and I’ve come on Lord Nobunaga’s orders,” It’s hard to put up a sort of business stance with a playful tiger cub in her arms, but apparently she doesn’t have to as the Date vassal bows down to the waist.

“Oh, greetings, Princess Mai. We were expecting you,” The man says with an inviting smile, stepping aside for her to pass with a respectful flourish. “Lord Masamune awaits you inside.”

“Thank you. Um, huh?”

Two rows of vassals come into view, all standing in attention and lining either side of the hallway to the main entrance. Moving forward, each pair she passes bow down in sync with her steps, looking pretty much like a royal reception… or walking into a haunted house, it’s hard to tell.

She does her best with keeping a straight face as she goes, struggling not to squirm. What’s the guy really up to? First I’m a poison tester, then a sword fighter, next an animal tamer, and now I’m treated like a princess? What the heck?

As she reaches the end of the hall, the door opens before her.

“Welcome, Mai…”

A warm and refreshing as spring voice drifts to her, the ears of the cub in her arms tilting up in recognition. As if a spell would be, Mai’s drawn inside by Masamune Date’s quite distractingly charismatic smile, finding him sitting with his legs folded before a small desk. And if she’s a Princess, there’s no doubt in her eyes he could absolutely be the charming Prince from tell-tales of old.

But he most certainly knows that, judging by the amused glint in his beautiful eye. “Looks like Shogetsu’s found a friend. He doesn’t usually let people hold him. Scratches and bites are all he does, the imprudent kit…” He mentions, appearing satisfied.

Huh, so, Shogetsu, written like “bright moon”, she guesses. Right, it takes merely one look at Masamune and she can tell he has a moon theme going. Yet even when both owner and pet are making it terribly hard for her to make a solid stand on her next reasoning, Mai knows in her heart someone at least has to.

It may as well be her. “And that’s even the more reason you can’t keep him!” Her lips purse tight, determined to stand her ground—even if the little cub may or may not already have been growing on her.

The sheer confused look in his face wasn’t entirely expected. “What? Why?”

“Because he’s a tiger! And he may be a baby now, but that won’t be for long! He knocked the wind out of me. What if he hurts or kills someone?” Stalking over to his working desk, she unceremoniously drops Shogetsu into Masamune’s lap. “Tigers aren’t pets!” She remarks with the best stern look she can manage.

However, Masamune looks all the more stunned for it and doesn’t say anything; his one gorgeous sapphire eye wide open, dangerously threatening to break her resolve just as simple as with a look. What!? You have no call to look at me that way! I haven’t held a sword to your throat or kept a lethal pet!

But then, he looks genuinely shocked. And to add up to the torture, Shogetsu joins his owner and casts his big and bright yellow eyes towards her, meowing ever so softly. “… Mraow?”

Her heart all but melts at that. Oh, fine!

Huffing in defeat, Mai pinches the bridge of her nose. “Look, as chatelaine, we can’t have any ‘imprudent kits’ on the loose.” She remarks sternly, “Just… make sure your kitten doesn’t stray,”

She’s about to turn on her heels before recalling that’s actually not everything she has to say to him. At her flourish, Masamune snaps out of his daze. “I see…”

“Well, that’s good, milord.” Even sitting cross-legged, he appears taller than life, his single eye intensely fixed on her, idly scratching Shogetsu’s cheek.

Slowly, he breaks out into another of those delightful smiles of his, the sort of one that spreads all over his face. “You surprise me again. I knew I wasn’t wrong about you!” He grins like a child after getting his birthday present, “And it’s just Masamune,”

“O… kay?”

“You scolded me before even saying hello!” A wholehearted cackle bursts out of him, his gaze full of mirth. “I like that boldness! Although… it’s not the only thing I like about you…”

Her treacherous heart comes back to life at his honeyed tone, skipping a couple of beats. “Um, okay, alright,” As hardened as Mai considers herself to be with shameless flirts such as him, a faint blush creeps up her cheeks nonetheless. “That was rude of me, I’ll admit that. So… hello, Masamune,” She remarks the informal usage of his name with a sheepish smile, “But listen, we need to—“

Completely out of the blue, Masamune snatches her wrist with fast reflexes that can only be compared with the feline currently squirming out of his lap, dragging her down next to him. That crescent smile and so vivid eye—that mysterious eyepatch—surrounds her entire line of sight. Leaning even closer, his warm breath fanning her face and a very alluring glint in his gaze, Mai’s conscious there’s no such force in the universe that would help her look away from the rapturing spell in that single eye; her brain sending her signals completely not related to work whatsoever.

“It’s alright, kitten. I won’t let you stray… again,”

Mai’s head tilts to the side just slightly as if hypnotized, feeling wrapped by an ocean of sapphire she’s almost too willing to sink and drown into. And his hand affectionately cradling hers is the precise amount of warm, a strong part of her very inclined to admit how appropriate of a time it is to start meowing.

And yet, that spell he just cast on her comes to an abrupt stop once Shogetsu prowls about, surely becoming bored and lonely, before exiting through the door she’d come in from.

Snapping her mouth shut—and for how long has she been staring at him slack-jawed!?—and shyly clearing her throat, she recovers some of her composure by attempting to give him a small piece of his own medicine.

“You say that… while your tiger just ran off again,” Mai says sultrily, conveying the same honeyed tone he used on her, playfully tugging at the black straps of his cape. “Maybe reconsider your caretaking ways. Leashing him could do, for starters,”

Masamune’s charming smile falters, yet only briefly, going wider as he can’t seem to help to laugh out loud. “I’m not the kind of man who’d turn someone against their nature. He’s free to roam where he pleases,”

That admission is certainly something she appreciates, but at the same time Masamune’s acquiescing ways can’t help but feel a tad bit problematic, at least in the long run. Or, for starters, just in that moment; as she considers about ditching the whole situation herself, yet it’s equally oh so tempting to stay right there with him, having a presumably very easy conversation.

Taking a defeated sigh, Mai opts out for spill out her concerns before anything else. “We need to talk about this morning, by the way. What the heck was all that about, honestly?”

“Before I answer that, am I your last stop for today?” She nods, not giving it too much thought. “Perfect! That should give us enough time. Let me walk you back and I’ll tell you on the way,”

Tenderly squeezing her hand, Masamune rises to his feet, prompting her to do the same and walking her out. “Kojuro! I’m going out! You and the guys watch the place while I’m gone.” The vassal named Kojuro who’d led her in and the two rows of the other guys in the hall all answer enthusiastically in the affirmative. “And remember this will be our place for a while, so suit yourselves…” He reminds them, speaking past his shoulder as they turn on the corner.

“You don’t have to walk me anywhere, Masamune. I’m comfortable with the castle now, I can get back on my own just fine,” Mai can’t help but say, not wanting to be a bother. “Soooo, anytime you want to let go of my hand, I can—“ She adds with a hint of sarcasm, although doesn’t truly mean that, deep down.

For some reason her comment does nothing but goad Masamune on, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow instead. “Don’t be shy, kitten. Come on!” His bright grin breaks all possible attempts for a negative, “I promise I don’t bite… unless asked for, sure thing,”

Mai snorts, shaking her head as to try hiding the amused smile in her face. Somehow and for all intents and purposes, that hurricane of a man manages to draw her in every single time, as if they’re bound by invisible handcuffs or another power in the universe.

And as he takes her through downtown Azuchi, she resorts to stop swimming against the tides for once—knowing deep in her heart it’s becoming almost impossible to stay away from the force that is Masamune Date.

“Would you look at that sky, kitten…”

Mai follows Masamune’s eyes, both humming in appreciation at the clear sky above, a pretty much tolerable cold breeze brushing past as they stroll together throughout town. As for having already given up on her hand, still tucked in his elbow, she allows herself to enjoy their idle walk.

“By the way, I have all I need at my manor,” Masamune points out, dropping the subject entirely before it even began.

“Right. Crap, I was about to ask you that,” She mentally slaps herself—leave it to him to make her completely forget about her job, and on her first day, no less. “But wait. You knew why I was coming to see you?”

He shoots her a sideways glance, “I’m the one who told Nobunaga to give you this task in the first place…”

“Really? Huh. And why is that?”

Shrugging as if not considering it a big deal, his eye returns to their surroundings. “You looked apprehensive about the size of the castle and the people in it. Now you’ve got some faces to put to all the manors…”

Idly stroking her fingers with his free hand before going chilly from the breeze, they briefly fall into a companionable silence, leaving Mai to ponder. In truth, she did think it was a good way to spend her first day on the job.

Quite at ease with each other, her eyes wander as they stroll past a tight row of merchant stalls, displaying multiple sources of shopping—from fabrics, housing adornments, to jewelry for women. Sadly so, the latter stall seems particularly packed up for her to take a better look at, the broad back of a tall man in earthen-colored robes covering half the shiny merchandise on display.

It’s not like they were out for shopping either way. “So, let me guess. Were all those tricks a way to make sure I remember everyone?” Mai wonders, shooting Masamune a questioning look.

He cackles loudly, as free and careless as the breeze brushing past them. “Ha! No, I set those up so you wouldn’t get bored, of course!” Why, how nice of him. Mai can’t help but snort, not truly mad at the fact yet not appreciating it either. “Did you enjoy them? I wanted gifts that would make you feel welcomed,”

She tugs scornfully at his blue sleeve with her free hand. “Those weren’t ‘gifts’ per say, Masamune. They were more like pranks!”

The glare she sends his way doesn’t make him flinch in the slightest. On the contrary, his smirk turns smugger, “You could just admit you had a fun time, you know…”

“No, I really didn’t!” She rolls her eyes, huffing exaggeratedly. “But maybe Mitsuhide did, though…”

Either way, they could keep that circular argument going all day to no avail. Whatever complaints she lodged with Masamune, so far it looks like it’d run off him like water off a duck’s back. I should probably take a page out of his book. Though that reminds me of my poor sketchbook!

As they turn on another row of stalls, presumably about to make their way back to the castle, people seem to recognize him—or most precisely, the female audience.

“Look, it’s Lord Masamune!” A woman nudges her lady friend’s side, happily waving their way. “Oh, is that the beautiful Princess everyone’s talking about?”

What? They know about me already? But I’ve barely spent less than a week here!

“Aaw, they make a lovely couple!” The second woman appears to squeal in delight.

Masamune’s smirk turns into a full impish grin, tilting his head politely in greeting at the onlookers, but otherwise looking so blatantly full of himself to correct the women—his chin a little straighter, shoulders more squared, clearly appearing to show off. A couple, huh? Oh, if only they knew.

To their credit, walking arm in arm probably made it look like a couple. Romance and dating, especially the latter, must be another one of those things that’s changed drastically in 500 years. Regardless, she’s quite honestly the last person to talk about on the matter.

Well, for better or worse, at least it looks like I’ve made a friend here—if I can call him that.

Testing the waters on that tidbit, she gives Masamune a friendly nudge with her elbow. “Didn’t take you for showing off,” She says low, only for him to hear.

“I’m not hearing you complain about it, kitten…”

The so charming smile he sends her way makes her flush all in a sudden, prompting her to change the subject before making an embarrassment of herself. “So, um,” Mai coughs awkwardly, “That was a pretty short answer to my former question, by the way. It certainly didn’t require a whole walk. Why didn’t you just tell me at your place?”

Masamune quirks a curious brow, “For all that questioning, I thought I’d already answered that as well,”

“Um, no? I’m pretty sure you didn’t?”

“Oh, so, when you want to know something in your future time, you just stand there and talk about it?” He wonders, hinting some disbelief in that fact alone.

“Well, generally, yes…” Mai is inclined to admit.

He shrugs at that, also seeming inclined to accept that. “To me, action is a more reliable way to get an honest answer out of someone.” Right, that brings her back to the events of last night with the sword display. Honestly, I’d rather talk. “Also it’s a lovely day out, don’t you think? Good for exercise,”

On that, she can wholeheartedly agree with, giving him an appreciative smile before falling into another comfortable silence. On their way back to Azuchi Castle, Mai can’t help glancing at him from time to time, watching the way the midday sun takes on the best of his handsome features. Drifting onto her thoughts, she sizes up how best to handle a man like him from there on. Is he just optimistic? Sure that he knows best and can’t possibly be inconveniencing other people?

One thing’s for sure, and that’s Masamune seems to be permanently set at high speed, although it isn’t precisely a bad thing. To be fair, she should have figured that out from their horse ride on their first encounter. And yet, for how slow everything seems to work in that past time, Mai won’t deny it’s a nice change of pace.

“You’re a very different kind of man.” There’s no real judgment in her musing, merely stating out a fact.

However, Mai doesn’t realize she’d been voicing her thoughts until Masamune turns another curious brow back at her. “That’s a compliment, right?”

The subtle doubt in his voice tempts her to tease him a little for a hot second, but opts out of it a moment later. It feels somewhat rude, after all, and he did just take her out for a walk. “Just in this case, yes.”

Mai allows herself a genuine smile and he returns it with a dashing one of his own, about to approach the main gates of Azuchi Castle. All in all, Masamune Date seems to get a lot of pleasure out of life while blithely ignoring the rules and to be quite honest, she finds that admirable—if not also partially relatable.

“You haven’t slept in three days!?”

Her breakfast tray almost falls off her hands, gaping at the relaxed figure of Mitsunari Ishida like a fish out of the water. Being that involved in a book is certainly a skill, but as impressive as it is, seems it’s also dangerous.

“It’s not that unusual, and I probably won’t pass out,” The young strategist is quick to come up with an excuse, appearing fairly used to do such a thing. “Although I typically only do that when we’re busy,”

As he sets his reading glasses aside, she begins to come to the realization of what everyone was trying to warn her about. I think I understand why he walked into that pillar now…

“Those glasses look cool. I didn’t know they had been invented yet…” Mai is inclined to admit as he sets the tray between the two of them on a spare table. It would’ve been truly sad if a bookworm like Mitsunari seems to be couldn’t be able to read properly. Plus, they seem to look very nice on him, and the thin silver frames set his amethyst eyes off in a really pretty way.

“Invented… yet?” At that, her eyes go wide.

“I-I meant, um, I haven’t seen people use glasses around here, um—“ She stammers, cursing her stupid tongue inwardly. This is totally my fault for spending too much time with Masamune. Seven hells! “Soooo, just tell me, is the rice of your liking, Mitsunari?”

Hoping he’d forget about her slip, turns out he does so more easily than what she’d have expected. “I don’t know if I have a preference for any particular food,” He admits with a shrug while folding his legs and taking a seat before her on the table. “I’ve always eaten these because it’s convenient,”

Almost as if to prove a point, Mitsunari hurries through his tray of breakfast in the same way he did the other morning with Masamune’s zunda-mochi, as if the act of having a meal is an obstacle. “The sooner I finish eating, the faster I can get back to reading. The last time I ate I had dried rice too...” ‘The last time I ate?’ Why don’t I like the sound of that? “That’s it. It was the day before yesterday.”

“The day before yesterday?" Astounded, all she could do is repeat what he’d said.

“I had so many good books arrive yesterday morning that I couldn’t wait to start reading them. Luckily, that one I just finished was the last.” Mitsunari quirks a sheepish smile before wolfing down another piece of rice in a mere second.

… How are you alive?

Sure thing, her own lifestyle couldn’t be considered the healthiest in the world—not even to her modern age standards—but Mitsunari’s case sounds practically inconceivable. “That’s… that’s—“ Mai struggles to come up with real words, all but astonished. “That’s not good at all, Mitsunari. You can’t keep living that way,”

She’s not truly the type of scolding people on their preferred routines, but as far as it goes, Mai’s pretty much obliged to do so. Besides, his health is actually one of the perks of her current job.

For the matter, whatever retort he might have had, he doesn’t seem to have it at all, flashing another of his terribly endearing smiles. “I didn’t expect you to care so much about me. I’ve never met someone as thoughtful as you before, Lady Mai!”

That’s definitely not the reaction she was expecting in the first place, looking away sheepishly when his amethyst eyes twinkle happily, just like she might from looking at so bright sunlight. For reasons partially unbeknownst to her, he seems truly pleased.

And that’s not bad per say, but why is he so pleased to begin with? “I just want to see you healthy and happy, Mitsunari,” All she feels about doing with that is shrug it off a little, “Take it from me, but living this way may hurt you in the long run…”

Setting his cup of tea aside, he reaches for her hand. “Thank you for your concerns, that means so much to me,” The blinding smile in his face falters just slightly, yet he sounds genuinely grateful all the same. “And since it matters to you, I’ll put in the effort. On that, I promise,”

Mai tilts her head in partial surprise until a grateful smile of her own reaches her lips. That’s a wonderful start! Finally there’s someone willing to work with me!

It’s been scarcely a week and a half since her arrival to that detached, dangerous time in the past, but it’s thanks to Mitsunari Ishida’s sunny smile that she feels truly welcomed among the people she met there, her mood improving drastically. Getting news of Sasuke’s whereabouts would certainly make it all the better, but making another friend in the young strategist feels quite comforting as it is.

And so, while watching him finish breakfast and more at ease than in the past days, Mai settles for facing the rest of the day ahead much more positively.

… And to her disgrace, her bright mood only lasts for so long.

Humming low in partial concern and anticipation, she stumbles upon no one else than Mitsuhide Akechi on the dim-lighted hallways, appearing to be returning to his quarters with a pile of books in his hands. “Oh, hello, Mitsuhide. Still working this late?”

Quirking up one of his mobile brows, he looks down at her, “I’m afraid some of us cannot afford a good night’s rest,” Mitsuhide excuses himself with ease, his golden eyes appearing to come alive with a gleam of curiosity, “But I could ask the same of you, dear chatelaine,”

“Well, Nobunaga has just summoned me to his tenshu…” She shrugs, hoping that to be enough detailing, not truly looking forward to being the subject of his scrutiny, of all people in the castle.

If he has any reaction whatsoever, Mitsuhide seems quite the master in hiding it. “My, my, has he already?” He just says, a very impish smirk creeping up to his elegant lips. However, he doesn’t lean her in whatever off-putting thoughts he may be having, stepping aside for her to pass. “Why, don’t let me keep you then, milady,”

Mai shoots a skeptical look at that, but the mysterious warlord is quick to be out of her hair to notice, disappearing past a corner without further ado. Determined to not let that ruin her nice mood, she pulls Mitsuhide’s vague commenting out of her mind and goes on her current matters at hand, walking the stairs up to Nobunaga’s tenshu.

Out of politeness, she knocks on the door before seeing herself in. “Excuse me,” The Lord of Azuchi Castle meets her on his working desk, barely bothering himself to acknowledge her. “I’ve been told you wanted to see me, Nobunaga,”

“Yes.” More than at ease for her personal liking, Nobunaga carefully sets his writing brush aside before meeting her eyes. “Tonight, I shall bed you.”

WHAT IN ALL HELLS AND HEAVENS!?

Tenshu: An architectural typology found in Japanese castle complexes. They are easily identifiable as the highest tower within the castle.

#Cassie writes #Stripes fic #Ikesen #Ikemen Sengoku #Ikesen Masamune x MC #Ikesen Shingen x MC #Mai Mizusaki #Ikesen fanfiction #SPOILERS: Mitsunari's route #SPOILERS: Shingen's route #Ikesennw reblog

5 notes · View notes